Him or Me

I have this odd companion;
I see him every day.
When we were young, we got on fine;
We'd walk and talk and play.
But something came between us;
He was young and wild.
I was sober; I grew up.
But he remained a child.
And now he's just obnoxious.
It really is a drag
To wash and dress and feed him
And listen to him nag.
His habits are appalling.
His tastes don't meet the test
Of anybody you'd admire.
He's middlebrow at best.
He watches too much TV.
He's far too fond of sports.
He eats too fast and belches.
He's often out of sorts.
Worse yet, he's a health-nut
And drags me out each day
To bike, or jog, or swim with him;
He always gets his way.
Sometimes I can catch him
Making faces in the mirror,
And he doesn't mind me watching;
(Now that's a little queer).
Myself, I'm very guarded,
Shy, if the truth were known,
Avoiding mirrors if I can,
Even when alone...
Which isn't often anymore;
I've given up the hope
Of having any privacy
While living with this dope.
We have some things in common;
He reads poems; I write 'em,
But when we're out in company,
I wish he wouldn't cite 'em.
I'm Apollonian, aristocratic;
He's a Dionysian tough.
I'm J.S. Bach and Haydn;
He's Rachmaninoff.
I'm Frankenstein, the scientist;
He's the monster at my side.
I'm sick of playing Dr. Jeckyl
To his Mr. Hyde.
He's loud. He thinks he's funny.
Everything's a joke.
You can't get a straight answer;
He's always blowin' smoke.
It's embarrassing in restaurants;
He has to play the fool
And chat the harried waitress up
Like he was still in school,
Though we're both well over sixty,
Getting bald and going slack.
He thinks about his love life;
I think of heart attack.
Some even say we look alike,
A thought I can't abide.
Strangely, he's insulted too.
What egotistic pride!
The punk should see a shrink, I think,
And get his ego shrunk,
Although a selfless, humble him
Might be worse than the punk.
One shouldn't have to live with one
So many years on end.
No one's compatible enough
For lifelong, live-in friend.
It's worse than being married,
Blah-blah, blah-blah, blah-blah,
But my wife seems not to notice
This odd menage a trois.
As husbands, we don't cut it;
One's a bore and one's a clown.
One wife just puts up with him;
The other puts him down.
If I could just be rid of him,
Short of homicide, I would.
A real man would do the deed
And settle it for good!
Peace! That's all I really want
As life begins to wane.
He never slows! He's manic!
He's frantic! He's insane!
Married people get divorced;
You file, and there's an end.
But there's no remedy in law
To shuck a fulsome friend.
So, slowly desperation grows.
You have to make it stop.
Life's too short, too precious,
To hang on till you drop.
When I ask if he's afraid of death,
He says he trusts in God,
But I suspect he's much like me,
An existential fraud.
I wouldn't murder him, of course,
But sometimes...when I'm idle...
I play-act and pretend I'm him.
Guess what! He's suicidal!
I'm not a Jack Kevorkian,
But it's either him or me.
Companion euthanasia!
And then we'll both be free.